Among Friends
by Sparky Dorian
Summary: Twoshot tag to "The World's Columbian Exposition." Lucy, Wyatt, and Rufus all have a lot on their mind. Things have changed, stakes have raised. But in the midst of it all, they choose to rely on each other. What are friends for?
1. Chapter 1

_It's been awhile since I've really tried to write fanfiction, but I have to say that I REALLY like Timeless. I'd love to hear whether or not I got their voices right._

 _The last episode freaked me out, haha. But here's a little tag of introspective-ness. Hope you enjoy~_

* * *

The tastes of soot and ash lingered on her tongue. She could smell it, even after stripping off her dress and sliding back into her modern clothes.

Lucy's hands trembled as she opened a bottle of water. Gulping half of it, she closed her eyes.

A tiny grate and a dark furnace seemed to flash through her mind every time she did.

If Wyatt and Rufus hadn't come…

"Lucy?"

She spun around.

Rufus stood in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry."

With a strained smile, Lucy shook her head. "No, it's fine. You haven't gone home yet?"

He cleared his throat. "I was… talking with Connor." His gaze jumped to the side, his shoulders pulling in. Lucy stepped closer to him.

"Did you tell him you erased the recording?"

"Well… yeah."

"And?"

He didn't make eye contact with her until she was a foot away.

"I didn't just erase it. I recorded a message."

Lucy's eyebrows shot up. "To who? To Rittenhouse?"

Rufus smiled grimly. His eyes were half-hard and half-afraid. He nodded.

Below them, the lights surrounding the lifeboat flickered out. She'd never been in the facility when it was empty before. There'd always been Jiya, Mason, Wyatt, Agent Christopher…

Now, quiet settled into the air like a welcome guest.

The two of them stepped further into the wardrobe room. Lucy took his elbow. "What did you say?"

Rufus spoke almost as if it were news to him, too. "I told them to go to hell. More or less." His mouth twisted. "And not to take anyone I care about with them."

Lucy laughed once, out of sheer surprise, then exhaled. "Wow. I mean… Rufus, that's… How do you feel?"

"Like I just threw a rock at Darth Vader's head and asked him not to chop mine off." Rufus dragged one hand over his fade. "But, I mean, I do have some _value_ to them _,_ so. Who knows."

"Are you scared?"

"Yes." Rufus sank down into one of the plastic chairs and she sat next to him. "And no. I'm afraid they'll go after my family, but I feel like finally standing up to them… it changed something."

"We're all in this together," Lucy said, one hand clutching her water bottle, the other on his arm. "Me, you, Wyatt. We're not going down without a fight."

The corners of his mouth twitched up. "Yeah."

Then he turned to face her, looking her up and down. "What about you? Are you okay?"

Lucy nodded. "I'm fine."

He tilted his head to one side and she sighed.

"I'm alive, I guess. Which I didn't think I would be. I was so scared, Rufus…" She swallowed hard. "But I kept remembering what Houdini said. Fear isn't real."

Rufus scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I still not know. Not entirely. But it helped me keep a cool head long enough for you and Wyatt to find me." She nudged him. "Thank you, by the way."

"I'm just glad we all got out of it."

"Me too."

For a moment, Rufus was miles away. "When I think about it, I can almost understand Flynn. Almost."

Lucy frowned. "What do you mean?"

"If Rittenhouse did kill my brother, my mom, I don't know what I'd do." He stared out at the Lifehouse through the spotless windows. "What I'd be capable of doing."

She followed his gaze. Her mouth wanted to start going before her head could catch up; to promise him that they'd keep his family safe, that they'd come out of all this on top.

"I don't think any of us know," she said instead, her heart thudding. "Not until we're in the middle of it."

All at once, she was trapped in a sinking car, stuck in the Alamo, helping Flynn at gunpoint, lying in a tiny stove.

And she was sitting next to Rufus in a silent room. She held his arm a little tighter.

"But," she said, quiet, "I think we can decide what we _won't_ do."

Rufus let out a gust of a breath. He nodded. "I think you're right."

He rose and offered her his hand. "I'll walk you to your car?"

She squeezed his fingers as she stood. "Thank you."

* * *

Wyatt sat in his truck for forty-five minutes after he got home from the bar.

His head rested back into the seat. The keys were sat in the ignition, jingling whenever he brushed against them. Outside, night had dropped the city into sleep.

He couldn't have been more awake.

It felt like his brain was on a one-way train with its brakes cut. He was plunging down a path that he couldn't get off of, no matter how much he may have wanted to.

Wes Gilliam.

The guy had a Facebook page, still—inactive for two years, since he was in prison—but his face smiled out from the blue background like he was innocent as a little kitten.

He was handsome, he was young, he was serving two life sentences.

Wyatt had to shut the webpage off to blink back angry tears.

There was nothing about his parents, but he obviously _had_ them. If he tried to, he could find more. If Jiya tried, she could find everything. Their names, their birthdays, probably even their favorite kinds of ice cream.

If Wyatt did what Flynn was suggesting… They'd be gone.

Suddenly the truck was suffocating. He kicked the door open and hopped out into the chilly night air. Reluctantly, he unlocked the house and stepped inside.

They'd bought it together, just before they got married. She'd picked out more than half the stuff in the place. Wyatt couldn't bring himself to throw any of it away. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she still lived here.

He needed one more drink. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, Wyatt showered and got dressed zombie-style. He'd killed before—of course he had, he was a _soldier_.

But going back in time to kill someone whose only crime was giving birth to a killer?

That was Flynn's territory. Dangerous territory.

He sank into bed, his muscles aching from where he'd thrown himself at the basement door. If not for Lucy, they'd never have gotten out.

Wyatt pictured Lucy's face; her dark eyes, her smile. He imagined what she would look like if he did as Flynn said.

He pictured Jessica's face, too.

Neither of them looked very happy.

"Well what am I supposed to do?" He asked the empty air, swigging from the bottle. There were only two options, really. Do the unthinkable, or…

His gaze caught on the picture on his bedside table.

Jess's eyes were sparkling, caught halfway through a laugh. She had one arm around him, her smile dazzling. They'd just gotten engaged.

The next breath he took got stuck, and his throat burned with something besides alcohol. He threw his head back against the wall.

The only other option was to let her go.

He knew which one seemed easier. But it didn't seem right, either.

"I miss you," he said, half-choked. Until Rufus and Lucy, he'd built aloneness around himself like a shield. He'd let his fighting mates in far enough to work together, to be war buddies, but not enough to really see him.

Jessica had always seen right through him. She'd known how he was feeling, what he was thinking, what he wanted. Even when he didn't.

He needed that now.

Wyatt shut the lamp off and put the empty bottle beside her picture.

Just as he sank down under the covers, his phone buzzed.

A curse rose from his lips. If Flynn had taken out the Mothership again…

He snatched the phone.

It was Rufus.

 _Hey, could we all meet up for breakfast tomorrow?_

A second went by.

 _Assuming that Flynn doesn't try to blow up the Titanic before then._

Wyatt found himself smiling faintly. He could hear Rufus, see his mouth twist with humor.

He typed a response. _Why would he try to blow up the Titanic? Didn't it sink anyway?_

 _Maybe he wants to kill Kate Winslet. Who knows what kind of damage that could do._

Wyatt chuckled. Before he could respond, another text came through.

 _Seriously though, I need to talk to you. I already talked to Lucy._

Curiosity pricked through the fog he was in. Half of him wanted to sleep through the next twenty-four hours and hope something looked better on the other side. But he wasn't the only one with a lot on his mind. If Rufus wanted to meet up, it must be important.

 _Sure._

The response was lightning-quick. _Great. I took about seventeen of my Mom's sleeping pills so lets meet at eleven. how's ricky's Diner?_

Wyatt raised an eyebrow. Rufus had better be exaggerating. _That works._

 _Will you tell lucy, the medine is starting to kick in._

He sighed. _I'll tell her._

The phone was cool and smooth under his fingertips. He rubbed his pointer finger against the screen, pulling up Lucy's contact info.

He should just text her. She was probably sleeping.

But the house was too quiet and the rest of the night gaped in front of him like a cave. Before he could think twice, he hit the call button.

She answered on the second ring.

"Wyatt?"

Her voice was hushed. He winced. "Did I wake you up?"

"No, I couldn't—I mean, I haven't gone to sleep yet."

"That's good." He winced again, hitting one fist against his forehead. "Not that you couldn't sleep, just that I didn't wake you."

He could hear a smile. "Wyatt, it's okay. What is it?"

At first he drew a blank. He'd drunk enough to make his brain go fuzzy around the edges. But it didn't help the fact that his thoughts were knife-sharp.

Why had he called her? To hear her voice, to remember that she was alive, that he was too (which at one time hadn't mattered to him at all, but now it seemed so important), to…

"Are you there?"

"Rufus," he said quickly, sitting up straighter. "He, uh, he texted me. He wants to have breakfast tomorrow. Well, _brunch_ , I guess. Eleven o'clock, Ricky's Diner."

Lucy let out a breath. "That sounds really nice, actually."

"It does," he agreed, quiet.

"He said he had something to talk about." He tested the waters, but she drew back.

"We should really talk about it person," she said. "It's a long story." Her tone had Rittenhouse written all over it.

"I'll be there then."

For a moment, she was quiet, then she said, "Thank you."

He blinked. "For what?"

"Just… thank you. You're a good friend."

Wyatt dropped his hand from his forehead, swallowing. The words to an answer didn't quite form.

"Good night," she said after a second.

"I do too," he said quickly, before she could hang up. Before he could stop himself.

"You do too?" He pictured her brow furrowing in confusion.

He made himself follow through. "I have something to talk about. I…" It came out of him in one long stream. A sigh. (A plea?) "I need your advice."

"Oh. Of course, I'd be happy to help. Whatever you need. Are you alright?"

With the barest of smiles, he shook his head. "We should really talk about it in person."

She let out one breath of laughter. "Fair enough. Then I'll see you tomorrow?"

The night seemed bearable, quantifiable now. A dark tunnel with a glimmer of light at the end, at least. "Yeah."

"Good night, Wyatt."

He exhaled. "Sleep well, Lucy."

Silence fell over the house again. Wyatt drew the covers around himself like a fortress and closed his eyes. Him, Rufus, Lucy, they were three points on a triangle. So different.

But between them all, they were just about balanced out.

And if he trusted anyone to help him make sense of things, it was them.


	2. Chapter 2

_Well, the oneshot became a twoshot! Thanks so much to everyone who read and or reviewed. I really appreciated that. You guys are lovely. Hope you like this second installment. There's a little more closure. We'll see where the actual show takes us. :)_

 _And if you do drop a review, please no spoilers for tonight's episode! I haven't gotten to watch it yet._

 _Thank you for reading! :)_

* * *

Wyatt woke to the sound of his phone ringing.

He threw himself from his bed, his nerves on alert. A wave of nausea and dizziness rolled over him and he clutched his nightstand, reeling.

The shrill ringtone sent pain shooting through his head. He reached for the phone, swiping three times before he actually managed to answer.

Vision blurred, he pressed the phone to his ear.

"H'llo?" His mouth was dry and cottony. He winced at the sound of his own voice.

"Good morning," a collected female voice greeted.

He straightened at once. "Agent Christopher. Is it—" he grimaced, "Flynn?"

In the background, he heard the sound of a little girl laughing. "No, thank goodness." The woman cleared her throat. "I just wanted to confirm that you were in an acceptably functioning state."

The words rammed together inside his brain and he made a face, still holding his nightstand. "What?"

Agent Christopher sighed, exasperated. "I wanted to make sure you were alright, Soldier."

"Oh." He looked at the empty beer bottle with disgust. He coughed. "Why?"

(If he hadn't been so hungover, he would have reminded himself to be much more polite. At least attach a couple of _ma'am's_ on the end.)

The line went muffled for a moment. "No, sweetie, you already had some. How about after lunch?" Agent Christopher crackled back on. "You didn't seem to be yourself last night. That's all."

He remembered with a flash. Flynn's phone call. He'd stood paralyzed by the lockers for a good five minutes. Then he'd left the building like he was being chased by a wild bull. He'd passed Agent Christopher on the way out.

Wyatt made his voice go steady. "Thank you, ma'am. That's very… thoughtful of you, but it isn't necessary. I'm fine."

"Whatever you say. Get some rest this weekend, Wyatt. That's an order."

He raised one eyebrow. "I'm not sure you—"

"Then it's a request."

A half-smile found his lips. "Alright, then I'll oblige. See you soon, ma'am."

"Not too soon. I'm hoping we can all go a few days without any mishaps."

"Amen to that," Wyatt said. "In that case, I'll see you later."

"Goodbye."

Wyatt tossed the phone onto his bed and sank down beside it, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Jessica hadn't ever liked drinking. She'd gone to bars or parties, sure, but she'd never liked having more than a glass, and she hadn't liked it when he had more than that either.

He missed her good sense.

All at once, his insides started churning. He rushed to the bathroom. After ten minutes, he had an empty stomach and a head full of doubts and questions.

Lucy and Rufus would have some sort of balance between them. Wyatt closed himself in the shower and shut his eyes.

By the time he was ready, it was ten thirty—at least he wouldn't have to wait long.

* * *

Lucy sat alone in a booth at Ricky's Diner.

(She was never late to anything.)

The waitress poured her a tall glass of water, and left to tend to her other customers. Lucy watched them all, half curious and half wary.

The curious part of her wondered. How many of their lives had been changed by her team's trips to the past, without their even knowing?

And the wary part of her worried. How many of them could potentially be connected to Rittenhouse? Just how deep did their connections go?

The present still felt _safe_ to her, despite the changes. She knew, intellectually, that they could come after her even here and now, but her mind clung stubbornly to the sense of security that her own time brought.

She sipped her water.

Footsteps came up behind her and she tensed.

The waitress spoke. "Sorry about the mixup. Is this your friend, sir?"

Wyatt answered easily. "That's her. Thanks."

Lucy turned around the corner of the booth, relief flooding through her. "Wyatt. It's good to see you."

"You too." His gaze flitted around the diner and he hesitated.

Lucy sat up straighter. "Is something wrong?"

Wyatt shook his head. "No, no. Can we switch sides?"

A frown wrinkled her face, but she nodded. "Sure." She stood and sat on the other bench. Wyatt slid in across from her, his eyes still out in the aisle. Lucy followed his gaze, tracing a clear line of sight to the door.

Always a soldier.

They faced each other. "Have you heard from Rufus?" She asked.

With a chuckle, Wyatt shrugged. "Just that he took some serious sleeping meds last night. He'll probably be late."

"Yikes." Lucy pulled her water towards herself and took another sip. Missions to the past always left her feeling dehydrated. "I'll text him."

She typed out a quick message and looked back up, scanning Wyatt's face. Faint rings clung under his eyes and his expression was too fixed.

A question formed in her mouth but didn't quite find its way out.

Wyatt sat up straighter. "There's Rufus."

Their friend skidded up to the table. "Hey guys, sorry I'm late. I am never taking anything like that again." He looked between both of them. "So where should I sit?"

Without batting an eye, Wyatt offered, "Rock paper scissors?"

Lucy laughed before she could stop herself, and nodded. "I haven't done that since Amy and—" Her smile faded, but she brought it back. "Alright, two out of three."

"The winner—"

Rufus cut in. "The winner gets to sit by me. Obviously."

"Obviously," Wyatt agreed. He and Lucy battled it out.

Lucy won. Rufus slid in next to her, giving her a good-natured elbow in the ribs. "I knew I could count on you."

"Can I take your order?" The waitress stepped up. Her dark hair was braided neatly and she reminded Lucy of Queen Victoria.

The three of them exchanged a sheepish glance. "We haven't really looked at the menu," Lucy apologized. "But, um, I'll have pancakes, please. And apple juice."

"Waffles," Rufus said. "Please. With a side of eggs, and orange juice."

The waitress turned to Wyatt. "I'll have some pancakes too. And coffee." He paused. "Maybe two coffees."

She looked up from her notes. "There's free refills on the coffee."

"Then one is fine."

"I'll have that right out for you."

As people filed in to eat, the noise level around them rose to a low hum. Rufus cast a glance around. "I sure hope nobody here's part of Rittenhouse. This is my favorite diner."

"I thought the same thing," Lucy admitted quietly. "About Rittenhouse, anyway."

Wyatt leaned forward, looking at Rufus. "So, what was it you wanted to tell us?"

Hands clasped around their drinks, they went over the story of The Recording. Lucy watched Rufus closely—he seemed even less scared, today.

Wyatt nodded, impressed. "That took a lot of guts, Rufus. We've got your back."

Rufus smiled with a hint of unease. "Thanks. Hopefully none of our backs end up with knives in them. I'm just glad I can trust you guys."

"Me too," Lucy agreed, fiddling with her napkin. "If I had to do this by myself… Well, to be honest, I don't think I would've done it in the first place."

Rufus lifted his juice in a mock toast. "We make a pretty good team."

Their waitress set plates of food on the table and they started to eat. Lucy's stomach growled like she hadn't eaten in a hundred years—which, technically, she hadn't.

"This is good," Wyatt said, surprised. "I must've driven by a dozen times, but I've never come in."

"My mom discovered it." Rufus set down his fork for the first time. "Back when my brother and I were eating enough to feed a small army. It's good, and it's cheap."

Lucy smiled. "Your mother sounds like a wise woman."  
For awhile, they just ate in companionable silence. It wasn't often that they got to be together without the threat of imminent death or disaster. Not having to worry about anything more serious than whether or not it was socially acceptable for Rufus to put syrup _and_ ketchup on his eggs was refreshing.

Still, Lucy couldn't help but watch Wyatt. He'd sounded off the night before, almost fragile. Whatever he wanted advice about couldn't have just gone away.

"So," she said casually, twisting her napkin in her lap. "Wyatt, is there… anything new with you?"

She felt Rufus give her a funny glance sideways, and Wyatt looked up from his plate. Her cheeks flushed hot. Subtle. Very subtle.

"No." He licked his lips. "Well, yeah. There is something."

Rufus's head cocked a little to one side. "New since we saw you yesterday? What is it?"

* * *

To buy himself a second, Wyatt shoved the last bite of pancake into his mouth.

Lucy and Rufus both watched him expectantly, and he forced himself not to squirm.

Last night, the idea of talking it out with them had seemed so easy. Today, he could hardly get the words out.

"You okay, man?" Rufus asked.

Wyatt drained his mug and set it down with a thunk. He met Lucy's eyes. They were large, warm, full of curiosity and concern.

He sighed.

"Flynn called me last night."

They both inhaled and leaned in at the same time. It was almost funny.

"Flynn?" Rufus asked.

Lucy frowned. "How did he even get your number?"

"What did he—"

Wyatt held up one hand. "Look, I don't know how he got the number. He's Flynn. It seems like he can get whatever he wants. He didn't threaten me, he didn't say where he's going next, or anything like that. He…" The sentence tasted sour in his mouth. "He said he wanted to keep our deal."

Rufus's brow furrowed. "What deal?"

Understanding dawned on Lucy's face. Her voice went hushed. "Did he tell you?"

"Wait, tell him what?" Rufus shook his head. "Did I miss something?"

Wyatt gripped the edge of the table. "Flynn promised me the name of Jessica's killer."

Rufus's eyes went large. "Oh. Shoot. Yeah, that. So he told you?"

Sinking back into the soft seat of the booth, Wyatt nodded. "He told me."

Silence hung between them for a long moment. Neither of his friends seemed to want to be the one to pry further.

Rufus and Lucy exchanged a look. Wyatt put them out of their misery and told them what he'd found.

When he was finished, Rufus said slowly, "So Flynn wants you to go back in time and kill Wes Gilliam's parents?"

"Or something like that."

Rufus let out a low whistle. "This whole thing is seriously messed up. I'm sorry, man. What are you doing to do?"

Wyatt dragged a hand over his face. "The thought of doing anything that son-of… I hate that I'm even considering it. But I _am_ considering it. I could have her back again, like she was never gone."

"What if he's lying?" Rufus asked. "What if this guy Gilliam's parents are in Flynn's way, for some reason? Someone he just wants gone?"

"I don't think so," Wyatt said. "Whatever else Flynn is, I don't think he's a liar. Not about this."

Rufus gulped the rest of his orange juice and flopped back in his seat. "You have a point. He's crazy, for sure, but he's oddly… sincere."

Wyatt turned his gaze. She hadn't said anything. "Lucy?"

Words spilled out of her, quiet. "What if you never joined our team?"

The question caught him by surprise. Whatever he'd expected her to say first, it hadn't been that. "What do you mean?"

"If Jessica were never killed," she began, her voice gentle on Jessica's name, "your whole life would be different. What's to say you'd ever end up here, with us?"

They held each other's gaze for a drawn-out second.

Then Lucy looked away and she spoke quickly. "I mean, without you, we probably wouldn't have gotten this far anyway. Rufus and I would be dead somewhere around the Hindenburg. Sorry, Rufus."

Rufus held up his hands. "No, I'm with you on that one."

"There would've been another soldier," Wyatt said. "Someone else."

But he hadn't thought of that. It was hard to shake off, the idea of never having met them. He hated a lot of things about going back in time, but the thought of never having done it at all didn't it well with him either.

"It wouldn't be you." Lucy busied herself arranging their empty plates into a pile.

"We wouldn't be crossing our timeline," Rufus said, half in thought. "We wouldn't meet any version of ourselves. But killing somebody's parents is…" He cringed in apology as he caught Wyatt's eyes. "That's pretty cold."

He saw the sentiment mirrored on Lucy's face.

Nausea rose up in his stomach again.

"I know." He shook his head hard to clear it and rubbed at his eyes. "Agh, I know. Jessica would never agree to it, if she were here. I know it's wrong. But I can't accept that her dying in the first place was right!"

Wyatt turned his voice quieter again. "This is why I wanted your advice."

Lucy spoke, soft. "Neither of us can tell you what to do. If I had a way to get Amy back, something certain, I don't know what I'd choose. But…" Her gaze met his. "I just keep thinking about everything Flynn has done. I don't want to see you lose yourself to get her back, Wyatt."

The words sank deep into his chest.

(He'd seen the self-disgust on Flynn's face in the beginning, but it faded with every life he took, ever crime he committed.)

If he killed someone to bring Jess back, would he even be able to face her?

"You don't have to decide right this second, you know," Rufus said. "This isn't Super Smash Brothers or something, you're not on the clock."

Wyatt's shoulders loosened an inch. "Fair point."

Rufus's phone rang and he dug it out of his pocket. "What? Well, yeah, I'm not that far away. I remember. But shouldn't you be in school? …Oh. It's Saturday? Well then sure, I'll be there in…" He glanced at his screen. "Ten minutes. Grab my gym bag." Rufus made a face. "Oh, ha ha, I'm sure you'll be able to find it under all the dust. Yeah, see you soon."

Wyatt shot Rufus a grin. "That your brother?"

"I promised him we'd play basketball this weekend. Really, he plays basketball and I do some dribbling." Rufus tried for a scowl but ended up smiling. "But it makes him happy. Sorry to bail on you guys."

"No, that's okay," Lucy said. "Go enjoy time with your brother. We'll see you later."

Rufus stood and dropped a ten on the table. "Keep in touch, yeah?" He lifted his eyebrows at Wyatt.

"Yeah."

Wyatt and Lucy sat alone again. She looked down at her phone. "I have to go soon too… My mom cornered me last night and wants to do something together."

"I thought you'd be happy," Wyatt said. "Wasn't she sick before?"

"Well, yes." Lucy rested her chin in her hand. "But I don't know what's happened in this timeline. I keep saying the wrong thing, or not knowing what she's talking about… and she'll want to talk about Noah." She made a face, then sighed. "No, I'm happy. I should be happy."

"That's not very convincing."

Lucy's phone buzzed. "That's her." She reached into her bag, but Wyatt pulled out his wallet.

"I got it. I'll walk you out."

They paid at the counter and emerged out into the midday sun. The last inklings of his hangover made Wyatt shield his eyes.

Outside Lucy's car, they paused. He reached and opened the door for her out of habit. But before she ducked inside, she stopped.

She touched his hand. "Wyatt… I just want to say. Whatever you choose, I'll—we'll be there for you. Rufus and I."

"I still don't know _what_ I'll choose," Wyatt said, not quite looking at her. "When I do, there's a chance you may not like it."

She leaned forward and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her back and let out a breath.

"I know," she murmured. "I trust you."

He squeezed her a little tighter. "Thanks, Lucy."

With a faintly teary smile, she slid into her car and waved.

As he watched her drive away, something panged inside his chest.

They trusted him. He trusted them.

They trusted each other to do the right thing.

And Wyatt knew that with their help, he'd figure out what the right thing was.

They were in it together.


End file.
